


It's All Fun and Games Until . . .

by darnedchild



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Annoying Albus, Challenge Response, F/M, Humor, Professor Snape - Freeform, Rabid Wombat Invasion, Student Hermione, very mild porny bits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-13 09:49:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4517286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darnedchild/pseuds/darnedchild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Answer to an old WIKTT Fun and Games Challenge. Severus is forced to spend the day with several students, including the ever annoying Miss Granger. (Originally written in early 2004, which was a very, very long time ago, please forgive me.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pawns in the Game

  
  


**Pawns in the Game**

The deafening silence tripped the warning alarm in his mind and drew Severus Snape back from the complex formula he had been working on for the last half hour while Albus droned on about improving student/teacher relations. With a deep sense of foreboding, Severus looked up to find every eye in the staff room on him.

“Pardon?”

Albus leaned forward with one of his maddingly cheerful grins. “We were discussing this month’s Interhouse Leadership Fun Day.”

Severus blanched, the blood rushing out of his already pale face. Fun Day was a concept Albus first introduced at the beginning of the fall term. Once a month, the prefects from all four houses and the Head Boy and Girl were invited to spend the day together to promote interhouse harmony.

Needless to say, no one from Slytherin had bothered to accept the invitation. 

“Since this is the last such gathering before the NEWTs, it might be a good idea for Mr. Malfoy to attend. I’m sure having the Head Boy around for the festivities could only make things more ... eh, festive.” Even though Albus’ “request” had been issued in a jovial manner, Severus could detect the steel behind it.

Still, he felt a sense of relief wash over him. If the Headmaster wanted Draco at tomorrow’s soiree, Draco would be there. Even if Severus had to put him in a full body bind and drag him there personally.

_Better Draco than me._

“Of course, sir. I’m sure Mr. Malfoy would be delighted to attend.”

Albus settled back into his chair and gave free rein to his grin. The hairs on the back of Severus’ neck stood up.

“Esmeralda was kind enough to point out that while every other staff member has taken a turn, or two, chaperoning Fun Day, you have been unfortunate enough to miss out. I believe you had urgent matters in the dungeon the last few times?”

Albus pulled a list written on stationary clearly labeled “From the Desk of Esmeralda Sinistra” from his robes. Severus glared at the Slytherin Astronomy instructor.

_I knew that comment about the uselessness of looking for answers in the sky when the problems were down in the **real** world would come back to bite me in the arse._

With a slight readjustment of his glasses, Albus began to read from the list. “Fifth year essays to mark. Detentions to cover. Emergency cauldron inspections. Rabid wombat invasion. That was my favorite, by the way.”

“Thank you, sir.” In all honesty, Severus had been just as surprised as everyone else when the wombat excuse had worked.

“I’m afraid the list goes on.” Albus looked over his half-moon glasses at Severus. “Tomorrow you will meet the students in the Room of Requirements at noon.” Albus noticed the Potions Master’s slightly evil look of anticipation. “You _will_ remain there, with the students, having fun, until Fun Day is officially over. You _will not_ attempt to intimidate anyone into leaving early. Everyone is to enjoy themselves. Is that clear, Severus?”

_As mud, you dotty old badger._

“I’m looking forward to the opportunity, Albus.”

The Headmaster ignored the sarcasm and happily adjourned the meeting.

Severus turned to bring the wrath of Slytherin down upon Esmeralda for ratting him out, but the Astronomy teacher had already disappeared. _Where in hades is house loyalty when you need it?_

He glided through the halls in a foul mood. He really did have better things to do than chaperone a bunch of hormonal teens for the entire bloody day.

He stopped in the center of the hall. The odd look on his face caused more than one student to find an alternate route to class rather than pass too near the his dark form.

It had suddenly occurred to him that as Head Girl Granger would most likely be there tomorrow.

Severus had always suspected that Albus had help forming his Fun Day concept. Granger was just the sort of person to encourage such nonsense in the gray-haired goat.

It was bad enough dealing with her on a semi-daily basis in class, but the thought of being forced to spend the day listening to her rambling about magical theory was more than he could stand.

On more than one occasion he had overheard her expounding on some complicated spell to a bored audience of Potter and Weasley, and barely refrained from launching into a counter argument. The young woman was incredibly intelligent but severely lacking in the experience necessary to master her many interests.

A few years of practical work as an apprentice in her chosen field and the witch would be a force to be reckoned with. 

But Merlin forbid that he should be the one to point out to Minerva’s favorite cub that knowledge found in books isn’t everything.

There were many things that needed to be experienced to be learned. Things that he might have been willing to teach the Know-It-All if circumstances had been vastly different.

Severus was distracted from the familiar thoughts of just what kind of special tutoring he would have enjoyed giving Granger by the sight of a retreating head of platinum blonde hair.

“Mr. Malfoy, a word, if you please.”

– ~ –

The problem with making potions was all the down time; time spent waiting for the solution to set or time spent stirring exactly four hundred and thirty-two revolutions. Too much time to sit with an idle brain and yet not enough time to get involved in anything meaningful.

It was one of those times that Hermione Granger found herself in as her hand automatically worked the long-handled spoon, a small part of her brain ticking off the revolutions. Nothing was scheduled to occur with the potion for another ten minutes and she was bored.

There were hundreds of things she would prefer to be doing – revising for the immanent NEWTs being at the top of the list – but Professor Snape’s opinion on bringing outside work into the lab was extremely well known to Hermione. Once he had used one of her Transfiguration notebooks in a demonstration of what could happen when one is inattentive in the lab. She had lost three weeks worth of notes, and it wasn’t an experience she wished to repeat.

As her hand continued stirring, she looked around the room.

Harry and Ron were bent over their cauldrons, whispering furiously to each other. Even from where she was sitting Hermione could see that the potions were the wrong shade of blue. Ron noticed her and tried to whisper something to her, but Hermione frowned and shook her head. Professor Snape would have an aneurysm if he caught her helping the boys again. Besides, if they wanted to be Aurors, they needed to be able to make and identify potions on their own.

_What were they planning on doing? Flooing me every time they have a question in the field?_

She quickly looked toward the front of the room. Professor Snape was seated at his desk, a stack of essays in front of him next to the ever-present bottle of red ink. She braced her chin on her free hand and watched him mark the parchments. 

His hands weren’t overly large, but his fingers were long. She’d once overheard Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown talking about the things men could do with long fingers. Hermione wondered what it would feel like to have his hands on her skin. Would they be hard and calloused or soft? They moved with a grace that she envied as his quill flew across the essay leaving a blood-red trail. 

As she watched the pace of his writing slowed and came to a stop. Hermione blinked and sat up straighter, her eyes following the dark line of his sleeve up to meet his black gaze. He arched his brow at her and Hermione suddenly found her notes to be incredibly interesting. 

Eventually she composed herself enough to look up again only to find herself caught by the ice blue eyes of Draco Malfoy.

Since his father had been sent to Azkaban and Voldemort had been destroyed (knock on wood), Draco had been ... different. She and Draco still disliked each other, but they had reached a truce. Neither actively sought the other out for insults, and humiliation and hexes were kept to a minimum. Not that anything had changed between the boys and Draco; calls of “Ferret”, “Weasel” and “Scarhead” were still quite common.

The look Draco was giving her wasn’t malevolent, more contemplative, as if he was trying to puzzle something out. 

A quick glance down assured her that there were no potion stains on her jumper. “What?” she mouthed at him, growing concerned.

“Miss Granger.”

She had to concentrate to keep her hand from trembling as Professor Snape’s distinctive voice washed over her. She tried to will away the flush on her cheeks as she looked up to find him leaning against the lectern.

“Yes, sir?”

“Are you quite finished distracting the other students?”

She bit the inside of her lip to keep from answering back. He seemed to notice her struggle because that smug smirk that always made her want to hit him or hex him or worse appeared.

“I will see you after class, Miss Granger. Do try to keep your nose out of other people’s cauldrons until then.”

Hermione stared at her cauldron as she completed the final steps of the potion. She refused to look at Harry and Ron’s (or even Draco’s) reactions.

_Two more weeks. I only have to do this for two more weeks. The nerve of him talking about **my** nose. “Hello, pot? This is Snape’s gigantic beak calling.”_

The thought amused her and she quickly hid her half smile behind a curtain of curly hair.

Class ended and Hermione waited for the last stragglers to leave before she approached Professor Snape’s desk. He continued to scribble marks on the parchment in front of him and Hermione patiently waited. She recognized the delay for what it was, another attempt to make her feel small and unimportant.

Without look up, he spoke. “I will not have you disturbing my class, Miss Granger.” When she did not protest or reply he raised his head to glare at her. “No denials? No feeble explanations?”

“Would there be any point?” Almost as an afterthought she added, “Sir.”

His dark eyes met hers and she refused to look away. It was a battle of wills. She could feel her heart race and knew her breathing was ragged and shallow, but still, she would not blink.

She could see the major vein in his neck jump. Could hear the crinkle of parchment as his hands closed on the essays. Her heart was pounding so hard she was sure he would be able to hear it. Her tongue flicked out to moisten her dry lips and his gaze dropped to follow the motion before looking away.

“I want a four foot essay on the dangers of distraction in a potions lab.”

She wasn’t sure what had happened, but whatever it was seemed to be over.

“I’ll have it for you tomorrow.”

His eyes narrowed menacingly and she wondered what she had done wrong this time.

“I was under the impression that tomorrow was Interhouse Leadership Fun Day.” His voice was full of disgust as if it pained him to say the words. Hermione had to fight not to smile.

“It is, but with NEWTs coming up I wasn’t planning on attending. I was going to spend tomorrow revising.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “According to Professor McGonagall, you have been ready for your NEWTs since the second week of classes.” His tone made it clear that her assessment wasn’t one he shared.

“Nevertheless, I think I would be more comfortable...”

“I’m afraid that is not possible.” He interrupted her. He returned his attention to the parchment on his desk. “The Headmaster has made it clear that he wished the Head Boy and Girl to be present tomorrow.”

Hermione stared down at his bent head, unsure of what to say. Professor Dumbledore had said nothing to her, but then, he knew she normally made every effort to attend. Unlike her counterpart in the house of Slytherin.

“You can assure Professor Dumbledore that I’ll be there.”

She ignored his deceptively calm “I wasn’t aware the matter was open for debate,” and clutched her school bag to her chest. The smooth timber of his voice was disturbing her, making her restless.

Bad enough to get caught ogling her teacher during class, she really didn’t want him to notice her discomfort and suddenly be compelled to inquire as to the cause. Somehow she didn’t think he would see the humor in being told that his voice, to quote Ginny Weasley, “did it for her.”

“Yes, Miss Granger?”

She felt the muscles in her thighs tighten involuntarily. “You haven’t dismissed me, sir.”

He looked up, that strange look from before momentarily on his face before the indifferent mask he usually wore reappeared. “Get out, before I assign detention with Filch.”

Hermione made good her escape and didn’t stop moving until she made it back to her room in Gryffindor tower.


	2. Go Directly to Jail, Do Not Pass Go

****

**It's All Fun and Games Until . . .**

**Go Directly to Jail, Do Not Pass Go**

Hermione entered the corridor minutes before noon, all her attention focused on rifling through her bulging school bag. She had packed several Muggle board games as well as her Potions notes for the last two years. She had hopes of sneaking some revising in while the others played games.

Her focus was so great that she didn’t notice the dark form part form the shadows near the wall to block her path until it was too late. The collision was minor, just enough force to throw Hermione off balance.

Strong hands closed around her biceps to steady her, warm and slightly calloused against the bare skin of her arms. A bolt of electricity shot through her and her flesh goose-pimpled.

“You are out of uniform, Ms. Granger.”

“Professor Snape? ... Professor Snape! What are you doing here?” She stepped back, out of his reach, and began to edge past him toward the door.

He had that incredibly annoying smirk on his face. “I thought that should be fairly obvious, even to you. Where is your uniform?”

While Professor Snape had chosen to wear his normal attire of teaching robes and frock coat, Hermione had taken advantage of the informal weekend dress code. Her denims, trainers and collared, short-sleeve shirt were perfectly acceptable for sitting around playing games.

“It’s Saturday, sir. Professor Dumbledore wants us to feel comfortable and less concerned with our houses at these things. We’re encouraged to be informal here. About a lot of things. Didn’t he tell you?”

A glare was her only answer.

Hermione was about to escape through the door to the Room of Requirement when she noticed the way he kept rubbing the palms of his hands against the cloth of his coat. The movement stopped and she knew he had caught the look.

Before he could issue another cutting remark, Hermione ducked through the doorway.

She was please to see most of the regulars milling about the room. Padma Patil and Ernie MacMillian were seated side-by-side at one of the small tables. Their heads were close together, and a book was open before them. Terry Boot was at the other table investigating the large variety of snack food and beverages provided by the house elves. He popped the cap off of a bottle of something orange and bubbly and nodded to her.

Ginny Weasley and Hannah Abbott were seated on a small blue plaid couch. They were casting nervous glances at the matching wing-backed chair near the empty fireplace.

Hermione couldn’t see who was in the chair; only a nicely manicured hand was visible on the armrest. The thin fingers were tapping rhythmically against the plaid fabric.

The door closed softly behind Hermione, and Ginny looked up at the small sound. Her welcoming smile died and her eyes widened in shock. Hannah’s squeak of surprise confirmed Hermione’s suspicion that Professor Snape had followed her into the room and was now standing behind her.

Draco’s head suddenly appeared as he leaned over the side of the chair. “It’s about time you two showed up. I want it noted that I was on time for this ... fiasco.”

“Duly noted, Mr. Malfoy.” Snape stepped around Hermione and crossed the room to inspect the food selection. His robes brushed against her legs and she stepped back before she could stop herself.

Terry bolted, ending up behind the couch near Hannah and Ginny.

“Have your fun and get this over with as quickly as possible,” Professor Snape sneered.

Hermione noted that everyone in the room sat up straighter when he spoke, the habit of years in the Potions classroom was impossible to break.

No one said a word. Or moved. Time seemed to come to a complete and utter stop.

Hermione finally noticed that Ginny was sending her some sort of frantic message; her head kept tilting toward the wing-backed chair, her eyebrows jumping up and down like two orange caterpillars having seizures. Frankly, Hermione hadn’t a clue what the younger girl wanted.

Professor Snape seemed to be using one long finger (Hermione felt her stomach muscles clench uncomfortable) to poke suspiciously at a brightly colored confection.

“Well,” said Hermione, unsure of how to begin. Almost everyone turned to look at her. “Right then.”

Draco stood and deftly smoothed the wrinkles out of his pale green dress shirt and dark slacks.

_He looks as if he has something to say, this should be good._ Hermione waited for him to finish his grooming.

He stalked across the room; his gait wasn’t quite as impressive as Professor Snape’s, but it was close. _All he needs is a billowy robe._

Draco paused a few feet from her to survey the room. “I can’t say it’s been fun. I fulfilled my obligation to be here, now I’m leaving.”

Over Draco’s shoulder Hermione could see Ginny desperately mouthing, “Keep him here!” Hermione rolled her eyes and stepped in front of the blond.

_The things I do for friendship._

Draco tried to step around her and she moved to intercept, her face flushing with embarrassment. Even Professor Snape pulled himself away from the snack table to watch the altercation.

“Out of my way, Granger.”

“But...” Hermione looked around the room for inspiration. She saw the bookcase filled with board game boxes. “We haven’t played any games yet. Terry’s our reigning Riddles N’ Rhymes champion. Don’t you want a chance to dethrone him? Or Magical Milton’s Truth or Consequences?”

Draco’s glare might have given her pause if she hadn’t been exposed to a far more menacing version in the corridor less than ten minutes ago.

He pushed her aside with nowhere near the force she would have expected a year ago. Hermione offered a sad smile to the disappointed Ginny and shrugged.

_What more could I do, short of tackling the fleeing Slytherin?_

Draco’s muttered curse reached her ears at the same time she met Professor Snape’s look. Was he ... amused? Because Draco had blown her off?

“Damn it, Granger, what did you do to the door?” Draco’s rather insistent yell startled her. She whipped around to find him pulling ineffectually on the doorknob.

“I didn’t do anything to the door, Malfoy.” Hermione put emphasis on his name, hoping the blond prat would find it just as annoying as she did.

He stopped battling with the door long enough to sneer at her. “If you didn’t lock it, who did? You seem awfully insistent on keeping me here. Let me clear it up for you, you’re not my type. I don’t go for repressed bookworms.” 

Hermione stammered. “You ... you ... _Alohomora_!”

Reflexes born from years of fighting with the Golden Trio had Draco dodging the second her wand appeared.

A swish of fabric signaled the rapid approach of the Potions Master, but Hermione was too angry to care.

“Merlin’s balls, Hermione. I was kidding.” Draco held his hands up defensively. True, the first spell was harmless, but the look on Hermione’s face was not.

“Language, Mr. Malfoy.” A pale hand wrapped around the wrist of her wand hand. She allowed the gentle pressure he was exerting to lower her arm. Hermione looked from his hand, still holding hers, to his face. Her heart still thudded from the earlier burst of adrenaline.

Professor Snape wasn’t looking at her; he was frowning at Draco. “Try the door again.”

Now that Hermione’s wand was no longer pointed directly at him, Draco seemed to get his confidence back. He tugged on the doorknob to no avail.

Professor Snape dropped her wrist and Hermione wasn’t sure if she was happy or disappointed in the loss of contact.

Draco turned and, for the second time in one day, found himself confronted with a drawn wand, this time Professor Snape’s. Draco immediately back away from the door.

“ _Alohomora._ ”

Despite the Potions Master’s oft-stated contempt for “foolish wand waving,” he appeared to be quite skilled at it.

She was gratified to see that his attempt failed to unlock the door as well. Seeing him gloat at her failure would have been more than a little irritating, especially considering how hard she’d been working this last year to prove to him that she wasn’t a silly little girl.

Professor Snape’s lips thinned as he frowned at the stuck door. The index finger of his free hand tapped against his lower lip.

Hermione opened her mouth to make a suggestion and he held up his hand in warning. She bit the inside of her cheek and silently fumed.

The rest of the room’s occupants finally seemed to realize something was wrong. Hermione could feel them crowding in behind her.

“ _Finite Incantatum_.” Professor Snape’s voice was firm and confident as he recited the incantation.

Still, the knob refused to turn.

She could hold her tongue no longer. “You should try...”

Suddenly he turned, wand held stiffly at his side. Her words died in her throat as he took the few steps necessary to close in on her. “I have not asked for your advice, girl. If, Merlin forbid, the day should ever come when I feel the need to solicit advice from you, I will gladly admit myself to St. Mungo’s.”

She could feel her wand vibrate with her barely suppressed emotion. “That is it. How dare you...”

His eyes narrowed and he leaned forward until they were nearly face-to-face. “How dare I what, Miss Granger?”

“You insufferable...”

“Professor Snape?” Hannah’s uncertain voice broke through the red haze of Hermione’s anger.

He straightened, giving Hermione one last look that clearly told her the discussion was not over.

“What, Miss Abbott?”

The others parted, leaving a clear view of the Hufflepuff fidgeting near the fireplace. She held a soot-covered envelope.

“This just fell out of the grate. It’s addressed to you, sir.”


	3. Prof. Plum in the Library with the Rope

**It's All Fun and Games Until . . .**

**Prof. Plum in the Library with the Rope**

Albus Dumbledore was going to die.

Severus didn’t have to be a seer to foretell Albus’ slow and hopefully hideously painful death because Severus had every intention of poisoning the ancient Headmaster at the earliest opportunity.

But first he had to escape from this bloody room!

His fist closed around the remnants of Albus’ missive. Severus had taken great pleasure in methodically ripping the letter into tiny pieces. Doing so had accomplished nothing toward getting him out of his present situation, but it made him feel marginally better.

If only he could forget the contents of the letter as easily as he’d destroyed the parchment it was written on.

_Severus,_

_I am disappointed. I had believed we had reached an understanding about your participation in Fun Day. You were to make an attempt to enjoy yourself, or, barring that, not to do anything to dampen the enjoyment of the others._

_Yet, if you are reading this, someone tried to leave within the first hour. (I have my suspicions as to whom.)_

_I’m afraid that this is not acceptable._

_I have placed several wards on the room. The door will not open until either my condition has been met or I grow bored with your sullen pouting and I decide to assign you another activity you will like far less._

_I advise you to choose the first option._

_My condition is simple. I want every person in the room, including yourself, to embrace the spirit of Interhouse Leadership Fund day and to have fun._

_I can practically hear you grumbling about that “crazy old man.” The crazy old man has his reason, Severus, I assure you._

_The other instructors have assured me that they found Fun Day to be an entertaining diversion, and before you ask – no, I do not think they **all** lied._

_Please, Severus, give it a chance._

_Or else._

_A.D._

The other occupants of the room had taken the (extremely edited and heavily paraphrased) news fairly well. There was only fifteen minutes or so of mad scrambling and frantic casting from almost everyone.

He couldn’t help but notice that during the mini-riot Granger remained calm. While everyone else gathered at the door, she turned the chair Draco had been in to face the mob and sat.

Her behavior drew him across the room to her side, a small part of him listening to the chaos at the door, prepared to intervene if someone managed to get hit by a wayward spell.

“You are handling imprisonment in a deceptively calm manner.” Severus eyed her with contempt. "Holding in the hysterics until everyone else has worn themselves out so you can, once again, be the center of attention?”

He could see her left eye twitch as his words hit home. His vague feeling of self satisfaction began to fade as Granger lifted her chin to look him square in the face. A soft, knowing smile broke free from the compressed line of her lips and Severus felt a shiver of apprehension run down his spine.

“You, better than anyone, should know how futile it is to fight one of the Headmaster’s decisions. If he says he’s warded the room so that the door will not open, then nothing I say or do will make _the door_ unlock.” Her smile had spread into a smirk. 

Severus had a momentary flash of panic that the chit knew something he didn’t. Something important.

“Honestly, how do you think he manages to get all of us here every month? Sure, the first time was different and fun, but each of us has friends and responsibilities. We don’t have the time to waste an entire day playing board games.”

Severus froze at the revelation. He’d always assumed...

Granter nodded to her classmates, who had given up on escape and were listening to her impassioned speech. “Almost no one showed up the second month, but Professor Dumbledore refused to consider canceling Fun Day. He started putting pressure on our heads of house.”

“Who turned right around and put pressure on us.” MacMillian leaned against the back of the sofa and grimaced. “We all finally broke down and agreed to show up. Of course, when we came back we changed a few things.”

Granger nodded again. “That reminds me, we need to do the oath.”

Severus was having difficulty digesting the new information. The students were just as reluctant to be here as he was, it seemed.

Draco took a seat on the couch and made himself comfortable. The Weasley girl settled on to the cushion near him; judging from the shy smile on her face, Draco had another admirer.

She took a deep breath, apparently gathering her courage, and turned toward the blond Slytherin. He looked almost as surprised as she when the teasing, almost flirty words slipped past her lips.

“You should consider yourself lucky, Draco. Up until today your head of house was the only one able to stand up to the Headmaster. I believe this is the first time anyone from Slytherin has shown up.”

Severus barely contained a snort of surprise. _They think I’ve been defying Albus this whole time? What utter nonsense. Albus never mentioned... Although... He does bring Fun Day up at least once a month and I do tune him out when he starts yammering about interhouse harmony._

The more he thought about it the more he liked the idea that the students saw him as a dark rebel, which had a much nicer ring than the truth – he’d been more concerned with the _Daily Prophet’s_ crossword than Albus’ ranting.

Severus surreptitiously looked around to see if anyone noticed his momentary confusion. All eyes were on the odd pair on the sofa. All except Granger. She was looking up at him, her lower lip tucked between her straight, white teeth. He seemed to recall that they were once ... larger? He frowned as he rifled through his memory, looking for proof that he was correct.

Her cheeks flushed and the tip of her tongue darted out to sooth her lip. Severus felt the sudden change of awareness like a bolt of lightening through his body. Draco’s response and the resulting murmurs faded to a dull buzz as Severus’ world focused into the perplexing woman sitting before him.

Her lips parted and he could see the sheen of moisture left behind by the pass of her tongue. _What would it feel like, to have her tongue run across my lips in the same way? My chest? Or, Merlin forbid, lower?_ The muscles in his gut tightened and his frown threatened to turn into a scowl.

Hermione’s lips moved, her words barely breaking through the feverish haze in his brain.

“... all right, Professor? We’re ready for the oath, but we can wait...”

His eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms, enfolding his robes around himself like dark wings. “What is this oath?”

Boot looked up from the refreshment table he was once again raiding. “It’s one of the changes Ernie was talking about, sir. Hermione set us up with it. Impeccable work, really.”

“Yes. Well, oath time.” Hermione’s voice was low and husky. Severus hardly recognized it as hers. The flush was back in her cheeks. _Was she embarrassed by Boot’s praise? That doesn’t fit with the hand-waving show-off you remember, does it, Severus? Maybe she’s attracted to Boot?_

For some reason that he refused to examine, the thought made him angry.

Drawing her wand, Hermione stood in front of the fireplace. “Most of you have done this before. Wands out please.” She waited for everyone to draw their wands and aim them at a common point directly in front of her own. Weasley leaned over to whisper into Draco’s ear and his wand joined the rest.

A moment passed in silence. Hermione cleared her throat.

_Hermione? Granger, Severus – remember that talk you gave yourself last month? It is Granger._

Granger ( _That’s better._ ) cleared her throat again, this time the noise was accompanied by a slight wiggle of her wand.

Severus arched an eyebrow at her. “Is there something caught in your throat?”

She made a face that vaguely reminded him of Minerva after a bout with too much fiber. The mental comparison amused him.

“Your wand, sir.”

That’s when he noticed all the expectant faces watching; even Draco was making an impatient gesture with his wand.

“I am not swearing anything on my wand.” Severus found the entire idea preposterous. “I don’t even know what this _oath_ is.” Distaste was very evident in his voice.

Herm ... Granger lowered her arm with a deep sigh that not only expressed her irritation at the delay but also drew his eyes to the momentary straining of the buttons on her shirt. To cover for his lapse in sanity, Severus sneered at the others until they too lowered their wands.

“It’s a simple pledge.” Her pedantic tone reminded him of someone, he just couldn’t place his finger on who. “What is said in the room, done in the room, stays in the room.”

Granger made eye contact with each person to emphasis what she was saying. “Breaking your word of honor will have painful consequences. Embarrassingly painful consequences.”

In spite of himself, Severus was intrigued. He had encountered idle threats before but Granger’s tone seemed to indicate she was stating fact rather than making threats.

“What kind of consequences?” Draco asked, sounding almost as curious as Severus was.

It was Patil (The Ravenclaw, Severus thought, although unless they were standing next to each other it was nearly impossible for him to be sure.) who answered. “Boils. Re-occurring, nearly incurable boils.”

Granger, who moments ago seemed determined to stare him down, suddenly found the stonework of the mantel to be highly fascinating.

Draco nearly laughed. “That’s it? Boils? That’s the horrible consequences?”

Patil grinned evilly at Draco. “As a Muggle friend of my aunt likes to say, location is everything. I can only imagine how difficult amore would be with a painful outbreak ... down there.”

Draco was horrified, and though he didn’t show it, Severus was disturbed as well. “No,” the blond shook his head vehemently. “I’m not doing it.”

Weasley placed her hand on Draco’s arm and issued a friendly smile obviously meant to disarm. “It’s fine, just don’t talk about the details and you’ll be fine. Everyone else has done it and we’ve never had a problem. Even the professors.”

“The professors went along with this?”

Granger spoke up. “It was Professor McGonagall’s idea to make the boils re-occurring and non-responsive to medication.”

“Minerva?” Severus was shocked; he hadn’t thought the spinster had it in her.

One of the students snickered at his outburst, but before he could pinpoint which one Granger responded. “I think she wanted to ensure that some things were never discussed outside of this room. And she helped with the wording for the provision about informing someone in authority when someone is in danger. We don’t just run wild with no regard for safety and rules; we are capable of policing ourselves.”

Severus refused to feel guilty because that was exactly what he had been envisioning.

“And the Headmaster allows this?”

The Hufflepuff girl, Abbott, shifted on the floor pillow she’d claimed as a seat. “Professor McGonagall said it’s more of an issue of what he doesn’t know won’t hurt us. It’s a compromise – we get to be silly and have fun without the weight of anyone’s disapproval and he gets to claim that Interhouse Leadership Fun Day is a success.”

“Without the oath we’ll all just spend the rest of the day reading and growing bored – no one will have fun and the door will never open. Sir.” Granger’s voice was pitched low and soft, for Severus’ ears only. He was sure there was a flaw to her logic somewhere, but he was too involved with ignoring the shiver of awareness to pinpoint it at the moment. “Professor McGonagall did this?”

Weasley began ticking off the fingers of one hand. “Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, Madam Hooch did it twice, Professor Sinistra, Prof...”

“Fine,” Severus interrupted her. He lifted his wand and aimed it in Granger’s general direction. “Do it.”

He thought he caught a ghost of a smile on her face, it was only there for a millisecond before she lifted her own wand and indicated that everyone else should follow suit.

The words of the spell were almost impossible to hear as Granger was very nearly whispering the incantation. Severus caught a third of it only because his attention was riveted to the movement of her lips. _For the spell, I’m watching her lips because of the spell, not because ... Now I’m lying to myself, what else is she going to drive me to?_

There was a complicated flourish and then she held her wand out toward Boot. “ _Fide Mea_ ,” she touched the tip of her wand to the Ravenclaw’s.

“ _Fide Mea_ ,” he repeated. The tips of both wands glowed blue, and Severus noticed that the light issuing from Granger’s wand was brighter than Boot’s. 

They stood that way for a few seconds until the light faded. Boot gave her an indulgent smile and Granger answered with a small nod before moving on to Abbott.

This time Abbott’s wand started out the brighter of the two. There was a small surge of power from Granger and Abbott’s glow immediately dimmed. Seconds later the light faded.

Abbott smiled self consciously, “Sorry.” 

“It’s all right, it’s instinctive to fight it, we know that.” Granger reassured the other girl. 

“Are you ready?” She stood in front of Draco. “The spell needs to override your natural aversion to the threat of punishment, and, at the same time, you have to willingly accept the oath. Once you say the words, you may feel some anxiety as the spell transfers from my wand to yours ... just like Hannah did. You may feel some of my energy attempting to override that anxiety. You’ll need to let the unease go and accept the spell.”

Draco looked toward Severus. At Severus’ small nod, Draco touched the tip of his wand to Hermione’s. 

“ _Fide Mea_.”

“ _Fide Mea_.” 

The blueish glows were nearly equal in intensity. The glow of one wand would increase before being overcome by the other. Severus could feel the vibration of power coming from the two as the small struggle of wills went on.

“Give in. Let her finish the spell.” Weasley leaned closer to Draco, careful not to touch him.

With a shuttered breath, Draco closed his eyes and the glow of his wand diminished. Granger lowered her wand once the spell was completed. “Okay?”

A curt nod was her only answer. Her back was to him and Severus noticed that she held her free hand slightly behind her. Her fingers were trembling.

Granger moved on to Weasley and lifted her wand. Before she could open her mouth to utter the spell, Severus stepped forward and placed a restraining hand on her forearm.

“Mister Boot, please pour a small glass of juice for Miss Granger.” Severus dropped his hand. “And Mister Malfoy. The natural sugars have often overlooked replenishing properties.”

He waited until she finished the juice before stepping back and allowing her to continue. She echoed Draco’s thanks, but refused to make eye contact. _Odd girl. I just didn’t want to see her over-extend herself. Albus would surely be upset if I let Potter’s Brain hurt herself._

Soon enough Granger stepped into the space directly in front of him. There was the barest hesitation before she squared her shoulders and lifted her wand to him. He arched an eyebrow and defiantly offered his wand. 

The last word barely slipped past his lips and he felt her. Her smell – sweet almond and french vanilla – was in his nostrils. The faint tickle of her curls were touching his cheeks. Her voice – the low, husky tone she had used earlier, the one that would haunt his dreams – caressed his ears in a seductive whisper, “Let me in. Accept it. Accept me. Let me in.”

Her lips weren’t moving, her face bathed in the eerie blue glow from their wands. His was definitely the more powerful of the two.

She bit her lower lip, and Severus felt an answering surge in his lower body. His light dimmed slightly as hers grew. Unable, and unwilling, to stop himself he put more will into fighting the spell. 

Her eyes met his, chocolate to obsidian. Even though he could see her standing nearly a foot in front of him, he could feel her body brushing against his. The maddening whisper continued, “Let me in. Accept me. Want me. Let me in.”

He could hear someone asking what was wrong only to be hushed by Draco.

The glow burned brighter as the battle for dominance continued. Hermione’s eyelids shuttered until she was watching him through her lashes. Her lips parted, and Severus felt more than heard her gasping breath. 

The light wavered and Severus realized that both their hands were trembling. The spell was affecting her just as powerfully as him. His concentration broke and Hermione cried out as the spell completed itself.

He had to steady himself as the connection ended. Hermione looked ready to drop at the slightest provocation, and he offered his arm to her for support. It was a testament to how draining the spell had been that she took it and shakily leaned against him as he lead her to the chair. 

He turned to find Draco and Weasley waiting with glasses of juice. With a grudging nod of acknowledgment Severus accepted the glasses and handed one to the trembling woman in the chair. He quickly drained his own glass.

“More.”


	4. L-A-S-C-I-V-I-O-U-S x Triple word score  = 45 points

**It's All Fun and Games Until . . .**

**L-A-S-C-I-V-I-O-U-S x Triple word score = 45 points**

Hermione sipped her pumpkin juice and studied the Potions Master from under the safety of the curtain of her hair. After demanding more juice and some biscuits for the both of them, Professor Snape proceeded to loom next to her chair in a rather Slytherin imitation of Madam Pomfrey’s bedside manner. His disapproving look made it clear that he was greatly inconvenienced by her show of weakness.

She was tempted to remind him that she wouldn’t have been this shaky if he hadn’t fought the spell so hard. She had been forced to expend far more energy than she had wanted, but shear stubbornness had kept her from backing down. Even so, if his defenses hadn’t lowered when they did... 

Morgana La Fay herself knew, she had been very close to the breaking point herself. The small bits of ... of someone else, the feeling of closeness that Hermione was used to sharing during the spell had been magnified ten-fold with Draco. The expensive cologne he never left his room without had teased her senses. His voice muttered “No boils” over and over like a mantra in her ear.

But with Professor Snape, it had been a hundred times worse. The moment he said the words to activate the spell she had been overwhelmed by ... by him. His scent – herbs and antiseptic soap, muted spices and the barest hint of dried sweat – wasn’t nearly as unpleasant as she would have expected. Quite the opposite, in fact. Visions of dragging him into the large tub in her private bath invaded her mind and nearly made Hermione step back from him.

That low, deceptively calm voice that normally signified detention or the loss of points had been listing the contents of the potions’ supply closet.

The sound of that velvet smooth voice whispering in her ear had driven her to the point of distraction. That was when she felt her hold on the spell falter and she’d pushed harder, channeling one last burst of energy through her wand.

The press of a muscular chest against her back had been startling, as was the sensation of masculine arms wrapping around her torso. Intellectually Hermione knew that the feeling of a body wrapped around hers had been a by-product of the spell and didn’t really belong to Professor Snape, but that hadn’t stopped the uncontrollable wave of arousal from washing over her.

She’d gasped. Her whole body had trembled with the dual strain of maintaining the spell and fighting the inappropriate need to launch herself at him.

Then it had ended.

After Professor Snape deposited her in the chair, Hermione caught Ginny’s concerned look and smiled reassuringly; even though she wanted nothing more than tho spend the next few moment analyzing the all-too-brief contact.

Hermione took another sip of her juice and studied his profile as he ordered the others to “do whatever it is that you people do at these gatherings.”

Piece by piece, he wasn’t a handsome man. His nose was clearly the dominate feature of his face. While some of the unattractiveness of it could be attributed to an old break that never set correctly, on the whole it appeared to be a cruel trick of genetics. 

_Much like your untamable hair. Right, Hermione? People in glass houses and all that._

Speaking of hair, his was so dark it was nearly indistinguishable from the shadows he was rumored to prowl. The greasiness of his hair was gross, but a strong shampooing ( _Or four._ ) and a leave-in conditioning treatment similar to the one she used to bully her own hair on special occasions would do wonders.

She was just getting ready to consider ways to adjust his pallor – Way too pale. A little sunlight never killed anyone ... who wasn’t technically dead to begin with. – when she realized he was watching her with that annoying smirk on his lips.

_His lips, now there’s something that needs no alteration. Those lips and the voice that emerges from them, oh, to die for._

“Yes, Miss Granger?”

Hermione closed her eyes in embarrassment. She’d been caught staring at him. Again. If she wasn’t careful he was going to get suspicious ... well, more so than normal.

_Be calm. Calm and cool and collected. Just look him straight in the eye and..._

“Excuse me,” Hermione mumbled to Professor Snape’s footwear. She shot out of the chair and across the room, pausing long enough to shove her glass into Ginny’s hand. She ran toward a blank section of wall next to a bookcase. 

Seconds before she would have collided with the stone, she whispered “ _Ausculto, Head Girl’s bath_ ,” and a door appeared and swung open. Hermione rushed through, into the familiar room and was grateful to hear the door close softly behind her.

She offered a few words of thanks to the castle, as the little alcoholic house-elf had taught her to do last year. 

Hermione had been trapped in a small room on the second floor during the holiday break of her sixth year. Peeves had locked her in, and she’d screamed herself hoarse trying to break the wards on the door. Eventually one of the house-elves ( _Wibbly? Wooby? Dobby’s friend, what’s her name?_ ) had found her and shown her that there was than one way to exit a locked room.

Wibby had reminded Hermione that the castle has sentient. Anyone who has spent ten minutes in the hall of stairs could understand that, the way staircases shift and doorways and rooms randomly move and disappear. But what few realize is that the castle can be persuaded to respond to requests, within reason, of course. You simply needed to attract the castle’s attention.

Hermione had been pleased to discover a small doorway hidden in a corner of the room Peeves had trapped her in. The door had led to a dark downward staircase that ended with another door. Inexplicably, that door had led to a room at the top of the Astronomy Tower.

Since then she had made only a few of requests to the castle and most had been answered. She had learned that to leave a closed room completely, she needed to enter a room or corridor with at least two exits because the first door would invariable send her back to her starting position. 

Neither Harry or Ron had been able to make the spell work; either they were doing it wrong or the castle was choosing to ignore them.

There was a reasonable chance that if she or Professor Snape asked, the castle might provide an exit. But Hermione would have to be cursed before she’d tell him that after the way he’d reacted when she tried to help. _Let him figure it out on his own, ungrateful bastard._

Hermione stopped in front of the sink and turned on the cold water. She raised her wet hands to her face and was surprised to feel the heat radiating from her cheeks. The face staring back at her in the mirror was hers, and yet it wasn’t. Her cheeks were flushed with anger or embarrassment, she wasn’t sure which. ( _Or something else entirely. You recognize that tingle in the pit of your stomach, Hermione._ )

She leaned closer to the mirror as her hands gripped the sides of the sink for balance. Her eyes were almost all pupil, the irises reduced to a thin sliver of dark brown.

The knock at the door startled her. Her eyes rapidly searched the room’s reflection in the mirror, making sure there were no used towels thrown on the floor or dirty articles of clothing tossed in a corner. The room was just as she remembered leaving it this morning, everything put away in anticipation of the day. (As the room of requirements normally neglected to provide access to a restroom and the closest public facilities were on another floor entirely, Hermione was used to summoning her own bath for Fun Day.)

There was another rapid knock at the door, followed by the impatient voice of Ginny. “Hermione, I’m coming in on the count of three. One. Two.”

Before Ginny could finish her countdown, Hermione opened the door just wide enough for the younger girl to slip through.

Ginny carefully shut the door and looked at her friend. “Are you okay? You’ve been in here for, like, ten minutes. Even Snape...”

“Professor Snape.” Hermione corrected her out of habit.

Ginny rolled her eyes in response. “Even _Professor_ Snape seemed almost concerned.”

Hermione busied herself straightening towels. “He did?”

Ginny cast a cushioning charm on the toilet lid an made herself comfortable.

“He asked where the door led and Hannah told him it was the bathroom.” She flashed a calculating look at Hermione. “He asked why the door wasn’t there before and, since you and I are the only two that know this is _your_ bathroom instead of some random restroom, that would have opened a whole can of headless chickens – eventually leading us to leaving and my not spending the day flirting with Draco – so I made something up.”

“A can of headless chickens?” Hermione turned to stare the other girl. “That’s a new one.”

The redhead waved her hand dismissively. “Dad’s started saying it all the time. I think it’s a Muggle thing.

“The point is that you haven’t said anything to Sna... Professor Snape, and we both know that you would have told him by now if you were going to.

“I figured you wanted to spend the day with you Mr. Humbert Humbert, my little Lolita.”

“Ginny!” Hermione threw a horrified look at the door as if expecting Professor Snape and some kind of board of ethics to come crashing through at any second. “Remind me never to loan you any more of my books!”

“What? You’re seventeen. It’s all perfectly legal if you want to catch him in some corner, wrestle him to the ground and snog him ‘til your eyes cross.”

With one last worried glance at the door, Hermione began to pace. “Could you be a little quieter, please? The entire castle does not need to hear. Seventeen or not, I’m still his student for a few more weeks and that makes it forbidden.” She stopped dead and covered her face with her hands as she realized what she’d revealed.

Ginny fairly bounced on her seat. “Gotcha. I thought you said you didn’t perv over guys like the rest of us?”

That produced a stern look. “First of all, it’s not perving. And I never said I didn’t perv, I said I didn’t talk about it. Unlike a certain person whose attraction to a particular blond Slytherin has been an open topic in the common room for over a month.”

“I only talk about it because it drives Ron nuts. If it was up to Ron I’d be in a nunnery or dating Harry. Practically the same, either way.

“And stop trying to change the subject. Admit it, you lust after tall, dark and ... erm, dark.”

Hermione sat on the edge of the large tub. “Was he really concerned about me?”

Ginny leaned closer. “He asked me to quote – Make sure Miss Granger has not passed out and drowned in the facilities – end quote. Considering who was talking, it sounded like concern to me.”

There was a resonating thump against the door that would have caused Hermione to over-balance into the tub but for Ginny’s quick reflexes.

“Miss Weasley? Miss Granger? Am I going to need to send in a searching party?” Professor Snape’s faintly mocking voice echoed through the room.

Both girls immediately jumped up from their seats.

“Do you think he heard us?” Hermione whispered.

“Doubtful. Unless he was listening at the keyhole.” Ginny whispered back.

Hermione took a deep, calming breath and pulled the door open.

Professor Snape stood on the other side, hand upraised to knock. Ginny darted under his arm with a muttered “Excuse me, sir”, leaving Hermione to face him alone.

Gracefully he lowered his arm, and Hermione was once again reminded of the phantom feel of those arms holding her close.

“Are you going to live, Miss Granger, or should I send for Madam Pomfrey?”

Hermione strengthened her resolve and looked him square in the chin. “Thank you for the offer, sir, but I’m fine.”

He made a snort of disbelief low in his throat and turned; his robes twirling out behind him, the fabric snapping against her legs.

Hermione followed him to the cluster of people near the fireplace, mentally berating herself for not having a better come back.

In the meantime, Ginny had pulled the Monopoly box out of Hermione’s bag and begun setting up the board on a low table in front of the sofa.

“Look, Draco, it’s simple. The whole point is to buy as much property as possible and collect gobs of this play money. You bankrupt everyone else and you win.” Ernie held up a handful of the colorful bills.

Ginny snatched the money out of his hand and finished counting out eight sets of starting money. “There’s more to it than that. When we play at the Burrow it’s about making deals. That’s why I asked Hermione to bring the game today.

“Hannah, would you grab some stuff we can turn into tokens? We’re short two since George charmed some of the pieces last summer and they ran away.”

Hannah dropped a bottle cap and a knut on to the center of the board, before sitting on the floor across from Ginny.

Hermione did the math and realized that if Ginny wanted two more tokens she was expecting eight players, which meant she was expecting Professor Snape to play.

Hermione glanced over to see if he had made the same connection but his face was too hard to read.

Ginny gestured to the empty space on her left. “I’ve played this several times. If you’d like, I could explain things as we go, Draco. In case you have any questions.”

If he was surprised by the offer, Draco hid it well. Cautiously he slid from the couch to the floor next to Ginny. He looked around as if expecting a small army of Weasley males to jump out from behind the furniture and hex him.

“Tell me of these ‘deals’, Weas... Ginny.”

She handed him a small stack of brightly colored money and gestured for everyone else to join them on the floor. “Hermione calls them house rules. Normally when you land on someone’s property, you pay them rent.” Ginny indicated the rent amount listed on the card for Marvin Gardens.

Everyone found a seat around the table – Hermione on Ginny’s right, then Terry, Padma, Ernie and Hannah. Leaving the spot next to Draco, in front of the sofa, empty.

“However, if I have neither the money or the inclination to pay you, we start negotiating. You always have the right to demand the money, of course, although never more than the listed rental fee.”

“Negotiate for what?” Ernie seemed intrigued by the game variation.

As Ginny talked Hannah began shifting through the token pieces. She would pick one up, examine it with a look of confusion and then tap it with her wand.

“Whatever you want – land, free passage, acts of stupidity ... whatever. Fred managed to get Ron to run around the yard, flapping his arms, clucking like a chicken for a good five minutes. Just as long as a deal is struck to the satisfaction of both parties.”

Hermione hid her grin behind a convenient coughing fit. Gryffindors have never been known for their subtlety – Weasleys even less so – but the way Ginny’s voice dropped for that last bit and the way she looked at Draco through her eyelashes ... it was obvious what she was trying to convey.

Draco’s smirk could only be described as lascivious. “I’m sure we could work out something to our _mutual_ satisfaction.” 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Mr. Malfoy.” Professor Snape didn’t even turn away from the contents of the bookshelf he was perusing to see Draco’s reaction.

Hermione’s coughing fit returned and a red-faced Ginny jumped up to bring her a glass of water.

Hermione took over explaining the rules for Draco and Padma and answering questions for the others who hadn’t played the Muggle game for a few years.

Hannah finished adjusting the tokens to her liking.

“Are you ready to play, Professor Snape?” she asked as she began to line the tokens up on the table.

He turned from the bookshelf, both brows arched in surprise. “Pardon? I don’t think so, Miss Abbott.”

Hermione thought Hannah looked hurt and she reached out to pat the delicate girl’s hand.

“Are you sure, sir? I’ve made you a special piece.” Hannah pointed to the row of tokens.

Hannah had always been very good at Transfiguration, something that was readily apparent to everyone in the room as the small, silver pieces began to move. Each piece was just under two inches tall and appeared to be made of pewter. 

There was the Scotty dog Hermione remembered, slightly larger than normal, with a small person astride its back. Hermione leaned closer. The person was Hannah, complete with a tiny Hufflepuff crest on her little school robe! The pewter Hannah leaned forward to pet the neck of her mount.

“Nice detail.” Terry was inspecting his pewter double sitting on the toe of a large shoe. 

Padma’s double had replaced the horseman, Ernie’s was leaning on the top hat. Draco’s car kept circling Ginny’s wheelbarrow.

The small Hermione was sitting on a pile of books, one open in her hands as she seemed to be reading, although she would look up every few moments to glance at the other tokens and shake her head.

The final piece was a table covered in tiny bowls and jars with a small cauldron bubbling away on one side. A very stern looking miniature Snape had his back to the other pieces and appeared to be doing his best to ignore the entire group. 

Professor Snape approached the table with obvious reluctance. 

Padma gathered her starting money and nodded to her double to take its place in the “Go” square. “It’s going to be a very long afternoon, Professor. You might as well make the best of it.”


	5. King Me

**It's All Fun and Games Until . . .**

**King Me**

Against his better judgement, Severus took the empty seat on the sofa and joined the game.

The next two hours passed with frustrating slowness as the mad dash for un-purchased properties began. Severus managed to lay claim on Mayfair amid a wave of groans from several of the others.

Draco wormed his way into possession of the Old Kent and Whitechaple low rent district and proceeded to invest large amounts of the hideously colored faux money into buildings, the end result being two red chunks of wood called “hotels”.

Every time someone landed on one of the two properties, the fool boy would giggle inappropriately and demand his rent in such a manner that Severus could almost picture him twirling a thick handle bar moustache. 

MacMillian had a few houses a piece on the red properties. He had taken the last of Patil’s money half an hour ago. 

Severus almost envied her freedom from the game.

Severus himself had bankrupted Boot, managing to acquire Park Lane in the process. A few houses were evenly distributed on Mayfair and Park Lane, generating a nice little revenue when someone was unfortunate enough to land on them.

Weasley owned the only other monopoly, the orange block near the useless square labeled “Free Parking”. Granger had two-thirds of the green squares near his own claim.

Abbott was barely in the game. She had a pitifully small stack of money and only one deed, the missing third of Granger’s set, Oxford St.

And thanks to a poor die result, it looked like Abbott was about to lose that.

“Whitechaple with a hotel. That’s ₤450.” Draco crowed.

Abbott carefully counted her stack of mostly tens, fives and ones. “I ... I don’t have enough.”

Before Draco could reach across the table to snap up what she did have, Hermione leaned forward. “May I have a word, Hannah? In private.”

The two ladies moved to the far corner behind Boot and Patil’s current chess game. From the frantic whispering and the furtive glances in Draco’s direction it seemed that Hermione was bartering a deal.

Severus heard what sounded like his name being whispered in the corner, and judging from the guilty look on Abbott’s face when he made eye contact, it probably was. Hermione noticed his look and moved to stand between the Hufflepuff and himself, her back turned to him.

_Interesting._

A minute later both ladies returned to the table, and Hermione handed the majority of her funds over to Abbott. Abbott passed the deed to Oxford St. to Hermione.

“Here’s your money, Draco.” The money she’d received from Hermione more than covered what she owed Draco.

Draco’s mouth hung open like a carp. “You can’t do that. She can’t do that. Can she?” He turned to Weasley for confirmation.

“She can, and did. No one said she was limited to making deals with the person she owed money to.” Weasely leaned so close she was nearly in Draco’s lap. “You and I could barter at any time. I’m very interested in your rail station.”

Severus was about to quit the game in disgust – anymore displays like that and he wouldn’t be able to avoid being sick – when he noticed Hermione. She looked as ill as he felt.

Abbott’s turn ended and the dice were passed. MacMillian landed on Hermione’s Kings Cross station. Rent changed hands and then it was Hermione’s turn.

Her deal with Abbott had completed her monopoly, which she took advantage of by spending most of what was left of her money on houses for all three properties.

Severus raised an eyebrow at the move. She didn’t have much left, and at this stage of the game rental costs were beginning to get steep. _Was she betting on collecting rent before she ran out of currency?_

A roll of four found her token deposited on Weasley’s Vine St. property.

The two ladies made eye contact and without a word rose up from the table. The redhead lead the way across the room, holding open the bathroom door and indicating that Hermione should enter first.

Severus changed his mind about quitting the game, for the moment at least. He was mildly interested in seeing what arraignment Hermione managed to negotiate for herself. 

His interest piqued when the high pitched squeal of “Are you out of your mind?” pierced the air. Whatever Miss Weasley had suggested, it didn’t seem to sit well with Hermione.

The door opened moments later and both ladies returned to the table. Hermione looked ... different. The change was subtle, and he shouldn’t have noticed.

_Wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t spent so much time looking at her... erm, let’s just say looking at her and leaving it at that, shall we?_

Her skin was flushed. The vee of her blouse wider, showcasing the barest hint of cleavage as she breathed. Her hair was loose and wild, eyes darker than he remembered. 

_Merlin’s beard, she was stimulating._

She passed a single white bill to the Weasley girl and studied her remaining pile as if willing more money to appear.

Weasley leaned closer to Hermione and must have done something under the cover of the table because the brunette yelped in pain.

She passed the dice to the redhead with a glare and stood.

“Ernie, Hannah, can I get you anything? Something to drink?” 

With a small shake of her head and an eye roll, Weasley continued the game.

MacMillian was very interested in food, or maybe it was the thought of the Head Girl waiting on him that sparked his interest.

Weasley landed on Picadilly, and Severus lost track of Hermione in the ensuing attempt to collect his rent. He vaguely heard her talk to Patil and Boot.

“Professor Snape? Is there _anything_ I can do for you?”

_Did I imagine the tone she just used? The ‘I wouldn’t be opposed to a quick shag against the nearest wall’ tone? I must have imagined it._

Severus turned to tell her to please sit down and stop holding up the game and froze, his nose tantalizingly close to the womanly assets on display before him.

Hermione was leaning on the arm of the sofa, bent toward him, waiting for his answer. The deep vee of her blouse was at Severus’ eye level, and he fought the urge to bury his nose in the shadowed valley of her cleavage.

She leaned closer, close enough that he could feel her breath on his face. Her low, husky whisper – meant solely for his ears – wrapped around him like satin. “If you don’t want anything here, we could probably arrange for something ... more adult.”

The roomful of potential witnesses kept him from reacting with either of his first two instincts – annihilating her verbally for daring to taunt a professor, or grabbing her and proving how dangerous it was to taunt _this_ professor.

Instead, Severus arched a brow at her, cool mask in place.

“I doubt seriously there is anything ‘adult’ that you could offer me, Miss Granger.”

For a split second she looked uncertain, then something – most likely her idiotic Gryffindor courage – kicked in. Her eyes opened wide in a faux look of innocence.

“By this point in the day Madam Hooch usually had a house-elf bring her a pint. Or two. And Professor McGonagall enjoyed a bit of a tipple.” Impossibly, she leaned closer still, and Severus could not avoid her scent. She was definitely breaking the boundaries of propriety by being so close to him.

Something was going to have to be done ... he just wasn’t sure of what.

She continued. “She even let some of the more mature of us have a little ... taste.” She drew back slowly, her small smile nearly faltering at his look of indifference.

“No? Let me know if you change your mind, sir. I would be more than willing.”

Hermione turned to Draco and Weasley to ask if they wanted anything and Severus tried to control the heat in his veins.

_Little tart. How dare she come on to me like some sort of ... of ... She just came on to me. **She** came on to **me**._

A feral grin spread across Severus’ face. _All right, Miss Granger. Two can play this game._ – ~ – 

Hermione finished serving snacks and returned to her place on the carpet.

Professor Snape was still looking at her with that dangerous grin on his face. She could feel the tension low in her body, muscles clenching in response to that look.

Hermione wasn’t sure if she should be excited or frightened. In truth, she was both.

_Damn Ginny and her meddling._

Somehow the wily troublemaker had talked Hermione into flirting with the Potions Master. Ginny insisted that now was the perfect time because he couldn’t deduct points or give a detention due to the oath.

It went a long way toward proving just how appealing the thought of a clandestine snog with the professor was to Hermione that a Slytherin’s natural affinity for creative warfare didn’t even occur to her. Professor Snape would surely be able to devise numerous ways to exact revenge that had nothing to do with point loss or detention.

Hermione was having a hard time concentrating on the board game. She’d fulfilled her obligation to Ginny and managed to put the first hints of her interest out for Professor Snape to consider. 

The whole thing would most likely end in some form of public humiliation, she thought, but her time at Hogwarts was ending. It was now or never.

Worst case scenario? A few weeks of Professor Snape-produced hell.

Best case? Some intelligent conversation, followed by some snogging. Maybe a grope or two.

Oh, who was she trying to fool? Best-case scenario involved full skin-to-skin-contact and enough mind-blowing orgasms to leave her temporarily cross-eyed.

It was possible. The cross-eyed part, that is. Not that she knew from personal experience, as her past liaisons – while pleasurable – were not earth-shattering events alluded to in the books that were passed around the girls dormitory late at night. 

But Hermione prided herself on her ability to learn and she’d been doing some very intense reading on the subject since last summer. 

Very, very intense.

“Are you feeling well, Miss Granger? It is your turn.”

Hermione realized she’d been staring at the board with glazed-over eyes and a vacant expression.

_Lovely._

“I’m fine, just working on a strategy.” She rolled the dice and narrowly avoided landing on Ernie’s monopoly. She paid Draco his small rent amount and passed the dice to Ginny.

She risked a glance at Professor Snape, looking for any clue toward his mood. To her surprise, he was watching her.

“Miss Granger, I believe I am interested in your offer, after all.” His voice held a promise of long, dark nights spent entwined with a lover.

Hermione barely restrained a shiver. As far as she was concerned everyone else could pack up and leave right now, she and the professor had business to attend to.

“That drink, Miss Granger?”

She blinked as her mind scrambled to switch gears.

“Oh, yes. Drink ... let me see what I can do, sir.”

He found her momentary confusion amusing, Hermione could tell.

She used the time it took her to stand and move to the refreshment table to gather her bearings.

With a snap of her fingers and a clear mental image of the specific house-elf she wanted, Hermione summoned Dobby’s friend with the odd name. Or tried to.

Unfortunately, it was Dobby himself who appeared.

He took one look at Hermione’s surprised expression and his ears drooped. He leaned forward to whisper. “Dobby is sorry to be answering Winky’s call, but Headmaster Albus Dumbledore be wanting only Dobby into and out of this room until...” 

The small creature looked stricken and immediately began to wring his hands. 

Hermione’s eyes narrowed, but she kept her voice light and helpful and pitched low enough that only Dobby could hear her. “Until what, Dobby?”

The house-elf shook his head violently. “Dobby shouldn’t be saying.”

She spoke to him with the patience one would normally show a small child. “If you don’t tell me, I can’t help you and Dumbledore.” She pulled the proverbial trump card. “I’m Harry Potter’s friend. You trust Harry Potter’s friends, don’t you?”

Dobby looked torn between keeping his secret and telling the wise and bushy friend of Harry Potter. The tips of his ears quivered as his little body vibrated with nervous energy.

Suddenly he spoke in a rush. “Headmaster Albus Dumbledore wishes Professor Potions Snape Sir to not being such a fuddy-duddy.”

Before she could stop him, Dobby grabbed the edge of the table and began to repeatedly ram his head against the wood. “Bad Dobby. Bad Dobby.”

Hermione pulled at the elf’s shoulders, to no avail. She looked around to see if anyone was paying attention. They were.

She wrapped one arm around the house-elf’s neck and pulled, managing to keep his head from hitting the table. The little bugger was stronger than he looked, and he continued to use his hold on the table to try to twist out of her grasp. She ended up bracing one leg against the table for leverage and dared to use the hand not wrapped around the elf to wave dismissively at everyone else. “We’re fine, really. Go back to the game.”

Once everyone – including a bemused-looking Snape – had returned to their respective games, Hermione released her choke hold on Dobby. “I know just how to help.”

He clutched at his throat and wobbled a bit on his feet as the blood and oxygen began to return to his various parts, a grateful smile on his pointed little face.

“Dobby thanks Harry Potter’s bushy friend.”

“Right. Anyway, Professor Snape wants to relax with a nice soothing drink or two. I know Madam Hooch has a lovely stock of ... soothing drinks hidden, I mean, kept in her room. Maybe you could convince her to part with a bottle? Maybe even the same thing she was drinking the last time she chaperoned Fun Day? Could you ask her?”

“Oh, yes. Dobby helps. Dobby gets drinks from Flying Mistress.”

With a pop, the house-elf disappeared. 

Hermione smoothed down her fly away hair and straightened her blouse. 

_If Snape wants to play dirty, I can get positively filthy._


	6. Right Foot Blue, Left Hand Green

**It's All Fun and Games Until . . .**

**Right Foot Blue, Left Hand Green**

Two hours later everyone had left the game but Hermione and Severus. Neither one of them looked ready to concede.

Some of the others had remained gathered around the table for awhile, hoping to witness the Head Girl or the stuffy Potions Master in the middle of an embarrassing dare. However, when neither seemed inclined to issue a dare (embarrassing or not) people lost interest.

Even Ginny Weasley, who had hoped for fireworks of one kind or another, drifted away.

In truth, the game was boring to watch. Especially after that little stalker elf who was obsessed with Harry reappeared with an unmarked bottle and a large glass for Professor Snape.

Severus eyed the bottle in question while Hermione counted her money for the third time.

“The amount isn’t going to change, you silly girl. Either you have it or you don’t. Pay me or forfeit, it doesn’t require that much thought.”

_Or did it? What if she were debating offering one of those dare things?_

He would refuse, and the game would end.

_Although, it would be interesting to see what she offered. Purely out of curiosity, of course._

A strange warmth spread through his body, centering low in his gut, as he recalled the fleeting glimpse of Miss Granger’s ... assets. Try as he might, he couldn’t blame the sensation purely on the alcohol running through his system.

Another sip of Hooch’s finest seemed to be in order.

The glass was very nearly empty. Again. Severus had momentary concerns about the state of his internal organs (having experienced Hooch’s homemade mash before) until he remembered Hermione’s increasingly unabashed nicking of his glass. The first few times she had waited until he was distracted to snatch the glass, her movements so deft he hadn’t even been sure the glass had moved. By the time he was absolutely positive she was sneaking drinks, he had given into the rather perverse urge to let her.

The one time his conscience had tried to exert itself, Severus told himself that Miss Granger seemed intent on leading herself down a dangerous path... and it was always best to learn these lessons the hard way... and wouldn’t it be better for her in the long run to have a responsible adult around to make sure things didn’t get too far out of hand? 

The argument sounded off, even to him, but he went along with it anyway. 

She was handling it quite well for someone who hadn’t been exposed to hard liquor before. Severus’ eyes narrowed with suspicion. 

_Too well. Little Gryffindor brats have been drinking. When I get out of here Minerva is going to get such an earful of... Nothing. Because I’d have to break that stupid oath and explain that I’d been letting her darling Granger risk blindness on Hooch’s sour mash._

_Merlin knows what Minerva would make of that. Probably accuse me of trying to get her precious Hermione drunk for some nefarious purpose. As if I would ever stoop so low as to use hard liquor, there are numerous potions that would..._

_I mean, how preposterous._

Severus’ grip tightened around the glass and he held it protectively against his chest.

Waiting for Hermione to make her move ( _In the game, I mean in the game._ ) was driving him to distraction. Severus pulled his attention away from the kneeling brunette, with her lower lip caught by her even white teeth, the barest hint of her bosom framed by the vee of her shirt, the soft heaving of her...

The others were gathered near the bookshelf full of games. MacMillian was pulling out boxes and inspecting them, before replacing them back on the shelf.

“These are all so childish. These games are for first years.” Draco sniffed in disdain. “Isn’t there anything more mature?”

“Like what? Sorry, mate, but we’ve refused to play naked bondage Twister since Professor McGonagall beat all of us during that marathon session last November,” deadpanned Boot. 

Draco wasn’t the only horrified Slytherin in the room, and even the bursts of laughter from the others wasn’t enough to reassure Severus that Boot wasn’t serious.

The thought alone was... intriguing.

Severus shook his head to clear the thought, and the corresponding mental image, from his mind.

Hermione was watching him with a small, knowing smile on her lips. “He’s joking, you know.”

Happy to have a reason to ignore the rest of the room again, Severus leaned toward the board. He reached out to place the glass on the table and then thought better of it. Hermione’s smile grew slightly wider at the aborted gesture, and Severus merely raised a brow in response as he braced the glass on his knee with one hand.

“I assumed so, Miss Granger.”

She carefully stacked all of her money in a neat pile and pushed it to one side. Crossing her arms demurely on the table, Hermione leaned forward as if preparing to share a secret.

“It wasn’t Minerva, it was Madam Hooch.”

Severus’ attention had once again been drawn to the shadows of Hermione’s cleavage and he nearly missed what she said.

“Pardon?”

Her smile had grown into a devilish grin, and Severus was convinced that the way she had crossed her arms was actually pressing her bosom upward for display.

“Minerva didn’t win the naked bondage Twister, that was Madam Hooch. Minerva much preferred Padma and Ernie’s version of Magical Milton’s Truth or Consequences.”

“Miss Granger, I am aware that these... meetings are considerably less than formal, but in my presence you will refer to your professors by their proper titles!” He couldn’t believe that she, of all people, would show such disrespect. Irregardless of whether or not Minerva had given her permission, the Transfiguration professor was not here to dispute the matter one way or another.

“Of course, sir. I apologize for my slip of the tongue.”

She didn’t particularly sound contrite in the least. If anything, Severus found himself on guard after her quick (and uncharacteristically brief) apology. “As you should. Now, are you prepared to concede the game?”

She looked down for a moment as if gathering courage. ( _Is she going to... yes, I think she is. This should be amusing. Especially when I tell her no._ )

Slowly her head rose until she was once again able to see his face. “I’d like to propose a challenge.”

He opened his mouth to scoff in her face. “I’m listening.”

_Bloody Hell, where did that come from?_

Hermione darted a quick glance at the others to make sure they weren’t paying any attention to the last two Monopoly players. Severus found himself checking for the very same thing. The others appeared to have found a deck of cards and had gathered around one of the tables. They all appeared engrossed in their new game.

“If I successfully bring about the terms of the challenge, you concede the game to me. If I don’t, you win.”

“And what are the proposed terms of this challenge?”

_Just tell her no, and be done with it, Snape._

Again, that secretive smile. Severus noticed that unlike Miss Weasley’s artfully applied cosmetics, Hermione’s face appeared to be free of any artificial enhancements. The healthy blush in her cheeks and the delightful rose hue of the full lower lip once again held prisoner by her teeth were completely natural. It was an effect he found oddly appealing.

“Just one, really. You will use my given name.”

Severus leaned back on the sofa. Whatever he had been expecting ( _hoping for_ ), this was not it.

“And how do you imagine you’re going to persuade me to do that, _Miss Granger_?” He placed special emphasis on those last two words.

Another slight hesitation on her part. “I thought we might discuss that somewhere less public. Sir.” She nodded toward the door she and the Weasley girl had disappeared through earlier. “You should go first. I’ll be along in a moment. It will be less ... awkward, if we disappear separately.”

Intrigued inspite of himself, Severus nodded. “You have five minutes to explain yourself before I refuse and win the game.”

“I think I can get the general idea across in five minutes.”

He stood and nearly flinched when she touched his hand to detain him. Slowly and deliberately, Hermione took the nearly empty glass from his suddenly nerveless fingers, and drained the remaining liquor. Her tongue slid out to catch any remnants on her lip and Severus felt that strange warmth in his gut begin to spread.

“You should probably take the bottle, Professor. It wouldn’t be a good idea to leave it unattended while we ... talked.”

He picked the bottle up and tilted his head as he made a show of examining its contents. “You’re quite right, Miss Granger. And one does have a tendency to develop a thirst when one is ... talking.”

As Severus crossed the room to the doorway, he noticed Weasley looking at Hermione. Hermione merely raised a finger to her lips, a half-smile still gracing them, and shook her head. With a quick nod of understanding, Weasley dropped her cards on the floor and proceeded to nearly pull Draco and Abbott out of their chairs in her effort to retrieve them.

Severus slipped through the door with a smirk on his lips. _Weasley was as subtle as a rampaging hippogriff in a crystal shoppe, but she seemed to be covering for Hermione. Interesting._

The lavatory wasn’t what he was expecting. He had pictured one or two stalls and a sink, a smaller version of the public facilities. 

This room resembled an intimate version of one of the prefect baths. The tub was smaller and there were no stalls, indicating the space was intended for a single occupant. A female, judging by the vast array of bath products arraigned on the shelf above the tub and the light green and blue color scheme. The room was clean and neat, but obviously used.

Severus stood in the center of the room, vaguely uneasy in such a personal space.

The door cracked open and he was relieved to see Hermione slide through.

That feeling of relief bothered him. It meant that no matter what he’d been telling himself in regards to what was about to transpire, he felt guilty enough to worry about getting caught.

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that he would have no part of whatever she had planned, when she spoke.

“Professor, I need to verify something for the sake of my conscience.” She looked nervous, as she leaned back against the closed door.

He nodded his consent.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you have marked and returned all of the seventh year assignments for the year? No more essays, tests or practicals? Just review for NEWTs from this point on?”

Again, he nodded. A subtle tingle of anticipation was beginning to overshadow his apprehension. It seemed that Hermione had similar concerns to his.

“So you no longer have any input into my grade?”

“None but that which every faculty member welds at this point, Miss Granger. And your five minutes have begun.”

That nervous look had returned to her face for a moment before she pushed away from the door. She pulled a large towel off the rack near the tub and flicked her wand at it. A quick incantation later and a cushioned chair appeared in the center of the room.

“Please, have a seat.”

Severus eyed the new addition for a moment, and settled deeply into the chair. He took a long pull from the bottle and watched her from the corner of his eye as she moved to stand somewhere behind him. He tensed as he lost sight of her and she didn’t reappear, but refused to give in to the urge to turn and look for her.

Slowly, cautiously, her hands appeared in his peripheral vision, one on each side of his head, and lightly dropped onto his shoulders. She paused as if waiting for him to ... do something, before her strong fingers began to knead the tense muscles.

Her voice, when she spoke, was soft and husky, and if her lips hadn’t been mere millimeters from his ear he might not have heard her. “Here are the rules. No wands. You remain in this chair until one of us breaks.”

Her fingers dug into the knot at the base of his neck, and Severus took another pull from the bottle to mask his groan.

“Agreed?” Her lips brushed against the shell of his ear and he felt the contact throughout his body. The building pressure in his groin made him shift in the chair, looking for a more comfortable position.

“And what are you going to do while I’m in this chair?”

“Something I’ve wanted to do for a long time. Agreed?” Her hands stilled.

Severus’ mind raced at the possible outcomes. Was he really about to risk his career for a few minutes of innuendo and the possibility of a sweaty coupling with a student? A student who wanted nothing from him academically, who couldn’t say anything to anyone about the affair without breaking her own oath, who was born more mature than many so-called adults he dealt with on a weekly basis, and who he happened to find intensely arousing. If a few minutes were all he could have, then why shouldn’t he take them? Why shouldn’t he reach for the brass ring when it was so willingly being offered?

“Agreed.” A wealth of silken promise seemed to be hidden in that one word.

Her hands left his shoulders for a moment, and Severus flinched at the loss of contact. There was a soft incantation and the tingle of magic behind him. He half-turned in the chair, one eyebrow raised, and looked pointedly at her wand.

Hermione flushed, and tucked the wand away. “Warding the door.”

A slight nod and he settled back into the chair. “You may begin, Miss Granger.”

He lifted the bottle to his lips, only to have her lean forward and take it from him. The momentary distraction of her breast pressed against his cheek allowed her to snag the bottle from his unresisting hands.

He heard her swallow, picturing the line of her smooth throat as she drank. She placed the bottle on the floor near her feet, and returned her hands to working out the tension in his shoulders.

“Does that feel good?”

A noncommittal grunt was her answer.

“How about this?” Deft hands slid down his shoulders to his chest before meeting at the top button of his frock coat. His hands found the arms of the chair and dug in as the first button popped free.

He could feel her quickened breath at the crown of his head, as she leaned closer to watch her hands work.

She freed the last of the buttons and slid her hands into the warmth under the coat. Severus nearly gasped at the contact, would have if there had been any air left in his lungs, as her hands ran across his taut stomach. One drifted upward to glide across his pectoral muscle before her palm found and began to tease his nipple.

His hands were beginning to shake, the muscles in his arms cording with the effort to keep from grabbing her and tossing her to the ground.

Her other hand traveled lower, and he felt her lips against his neck as she shifted. The moist touch of her tongue against the pulsing vein in his neck and the barest hint of pressure from the tips of her fingers against his hardness was too much. She issued a startled yelp as his hands closed on hers and pulled her around on to his lap. Her hip pressed against his groin and he couldn’t control one quick thrust.

His rough hands grasped her shoulder and pulled her closer, his lips already parted in anticipation.

She moved quickly, one delicate finger pressed against his lips, denying him the contact he craved.

Her eyes were on his lips with a look of hunger that rivaled his. He opened his mouth and drew her digit between his teeth, his tongue bathing the very tip. She squirmed on his lap, and he groaned. He drew her finger out of his mouth and leaned forward to capture her lips.

Only to be thwarted by her entire hand against his mouth.

“Say my name.”

The word was on the tip of his tongue before he remembered. He leaned back with a smirk. “Certainly, Miss Granger.”

She smiled in return, and he knew that she also wanted to continue their game.

“Tsk, tsk, almost had you. Guess I’ll have to try harder.”

Without breaking eye contact with him, her hands settled against his chest and drifted downward. He held his breath as she reached his waist. One hand caressed the solid bulge beneath his fly, and she finally looked down.

Her teeth captured her lower lip in that way that drove him to distraction, as if her hands on him there were not enough.

Nimble fingers slid the buttons of his fly free, one by one.

Then she was sliding to the floor, on her knees before him.

And Severus was convinced he was about to die.

She looked at him from beneath her lashes, hands hovering over his groin, and grinned. “My name?”

“Miss Granger,” he hissed. Whether it was to answer her or to urge her on, he was unsure.

Her hands slid down his thighs to his knees and she pushed them apart, quickly filling the space with her body.

She fumbled with the open fly of his trousers, and he was irrationally relieved that she lacked the practiced ease of his past encounters.

With some assistance from him (he was not surprised to notice the unsteadiness of his own hands) she managed to ease his erection from the confines of his trousers.

The feel of her hands, sweetly hesitant, on his cock nearly sent him over the edge. His head fell back, eyes closed, and his hands settled on her shoulders.

_Gods, yes._ His eyes open at the sound of his own voice. He hadn’t meant to speak out loud.

“I agree,” Hermione teased. Severus looked down to watch her.

Her fingers were touching his length, learning him. Her mouth was so close.

He slid lower in the chair, pushing himself that much closer.

One hand grasped him firmly, the other braced on the straining muscles of his thigh, and she leaned forward. He felt the heat of her breath against the sensitive tip of his cock. His hands curled into her hair, not to guide or to push, but simply because he needed something to hold on to.

“Say my name.”

Every puff of air blew across his aching erection. He bit his lip to hold back a whimper. His hips jerked reflexively, and his hands moved to cup the back of her head.

Those oh-so-soft lips kissed the head of his cock. A delicate sweep of her tongue, and he was suddenly willing to promise her anything if it meant she would finish what she’d started.

“Say my name.”

As he breathed the first syllable of her given name, her lips opened and began to slide over him.

And someone knocked on the bloody fucking door.

For one brief, heart-stopping moment her moist warmth enveloped him, and then was gone. His hands convulsed in her hair before releasing her.

– ~ –

Ginny knocked on the door once more.

“Hermione? Professor Snape? The door opened and the Headmaster is here.”

Hermione leaned back on her heels and studied the man before her. Part of her wanted to ignore the real world and pull him to the floor and force him to do unspeakable things to her body. The other parts of her wanted to hex every last person in the other room for interrupting her, and then pull him to the floor for the deliciously unspeakable acts. Her tongue crept out capture the last taste of him from her lips.

His head was thrown back, the long line of his neck exposed. He looked vulnerable.

Then he moved and suddenly their eyes met. Hermione caught her breath at the intensity in his.

“We’ll be out in a moment, Ginny. I’m almost done with the cold compress for the Professor’s migraine.”

She stood and turned to a cabinet near the sink, her back toward him. She could hear the rustle of fabric as he put himself to rights. Hermione quickly gathered the materials for a compress and cast the necessary cooling charm.

She watched him in the mirror, until he was once again taciturn Potions Master. All traces of the man she’d driven crazy were gone.

They both crossed the room and paused at the door. Hermione dropped the ward and held out the compress.

Severus’ hand closed around her wrist. “That was a dangerous game we were playing, Miss Granger. The stakes are too high. We can’t do it again.”

He grabbed the compress and pressed it against his temple before pulling open the door and stalking through it in a wave of dark robes.

Hermione followed, the door to the bathroom disappearing behind her with a soft word of thanks to the castle. 

A greeting for the Headmaster died on her lips as she noticed the who was with him. Ron and Harry were standing on either side of the (for once) unamused Headmaster. Ron was sputtering and Harry’s eyebrows looked like they were trying to escape into his hair line, and both boys looked a tad green.

“Professor Snape, what is the meaning of this?” Dumbledore’s voice echoed off the walls. 

She tried to figure out what to say, what words would keep her in school and retain Severus’ job, what could possibly salvage their lives...

From the corner of her eye she saw Severus press the compress closer to his temple, as if he really did have a migraine. 

“I think that would be obvious, Headmaster. You are, after all, the one who insisted I let the students have a good time.”

For the first time, Hermione realized that no one was looking at her... that the boys were focused on the area to her left, and Dumbledore was glaring at Severus. Carefully she turned, almost afraid of what she would see.

“Oh, my.” Hermione covered her mouth with her hand, to hide the smile that threatened to get her into trouble.

The others were in various states of undress: Hannah and Terry both missing footwear, Ernie was down to his undershirt, Padma fully dressed but for her hair clips, and Draco wearing only a single sock and his boxers.

A quick look behind her found Ginny leaning against the wall near where the door used to be. Ginny had managed to retain her jumper and not much else. Hermione raised an eyebrow at her friend, and Ginny smiled back, a flush in her cheeks, before studying her feet.

“I did not intend for you to let them play strip poker, Severus.” As stern has Dumbledore sounded, Hermione thought she heard a note of amusement in his voice.

“Strip go fish, sir.” Ginny piped up.

“Ginvera Molly Weasley! I can not believe that you... What in Merlin’s name is that?!” Ron’s voice cracked and Hermione was reminded of the horrific semester when his voice finally started to change. 

All eyes turned to the red-headed witch as she finished picking up her discarded clothing from the tidy pile near her empty chair. An oddly colored birth mark peeked out from under the hem of her jumper on her hip.

Draco leaned closer to study the mark, and Harry had to physically restrain Ron. Ginny merely smiled and lifted the hem of her shirt just enough to expose the entire dragon-shaped mark (and the edge of a pair of scandalously high-cut knickers).

“Well, well, seems SOMEBODY has a tattoo.”

“You stay away from her, ferret!” Ron was nearly frothing at the mouth, and poor Harry looked intrigued by the newly exposed side of his best friend’s sister.

Dumbledore placed a restraining hand on Ron’s shoulder. “Calm down. Miss Weasley, children, if you would be so kind as to put your clothing back on?”

Hermione hoped that Ginny’s flush was because she had finally realized that standing around half-naked in front of family and faculty might not be the best time to flirt. She suspected, however, that the flush was because Draco had not yet moved away from his study of Ginny’s tattoo.

“Mr. Malfoy, the Headmaster has made a request. Do not make me repeat it.” Severus’ voice seemed to snap Draco out of his thrall and he scrambled to recover his clothing.

Once satisfied that no one was going to attempt to kill anyone else... at the moment, Dumbledore moved to inspect the remnants of the card game on the table. “Looks amusing, I’ll have to have you explain the rules to me later, Professor.”

“Professor Snape wasn’t playing cards, Headmaster. He was playing Monopoly with me.” Hermione gestured toward the board game, thankful that the bottle of Hooch’s liquor was safely hidden in her bathroom and no long standing near the board.

Dumbledore stood next to the Potions Master, and looked from the board game to Severus and back again. “Really. How ... interesting. And you enjoyed the game, Severus?” His tone of voice made it clear that he didn’t believe it could be so.

Severus moved to indicate Hermione’s token. “Miss Granger had just landed on one of my rental properties, and was about to concede the game to me for want of funds. I believe I did find the moment ... amusing.”

“Actually, Professor...” Hermione picked up her pile of money and quickly counted out half of it. “I do have the money. The game isn’t finished, yet. I would like to have a chance to continue it sometime, possibly after the term is over. If you are interested in establishing a winner, that is?” She bit her lip, waiting to for his answer, wondering if he understood what she was trying to convey. 

His eyes met hers and the intensity was back.

“I’m a very busy man, Miss Granger. However, I may be able to find a small amount of time ... after term, as you suggested, to resolve the game.”

Harry spoke for the first time since entering the room. “I missed something, didn’t I?”

The End


End file.
